Remnants
by Deus X Machina
Summary: Azrael, a program without a known purpose, is taken into the Merovingian's private army. Meanwhile, the humans and machines work together to combat the return of Agent Smith. SUSPENDED
1. Chapter 1

The young boy lay on the concrete floor completely motionless. One would have thought he was dead until he stirred and groaned. Fighting the urge to collapse, he lifted himself to his feet, supporting himself on a nearby crate. As his vision began to clear, he noticed that he was in a pitch dark room filled with boxes and various other objects. He saw a trapdoor and heard muffled sounds coming from below. He was in some sort of attic.

The boy glanced back at the spot where he had been lying and saw a five-point star inscribed in a circle. Crude letters were scratched over the pentagram, spelling the word "AZRAEL." The boy whispered it to himself, feeling the word, tasting it. It was a name. His name.

The trapdoor squeaked. Azrael dropped behind the box and drew a pistol he hadn't known he had.

Two men stalked in, one with a pair of pistols at his waist, the other with a sub-machine gun hanging from a strap on his shoulder. One pointed at the symbol. "There it is. Right where the boss said it would be."

"Well, where's the program, then?"

"It has to be around here somewhere." He drew his two pistols as his companion grasped his sub-machine gun.

Taking careful aim, Azrael shot the man with the sub-machine gun in the chest. The man with the pistols wheeled around and fired off four shots. Azrael ducked behind the boxes and fired two shots.

The man jumped onto the ceiling and began leaping from wall to wall. Azrael tried to fire at him, but the man was too fast. He would leap away from the wall right before the bullet hit the concrete.Azrael tried to adjust, but it was impossible to tell which way he could go, and Azrael thought he saw him change directions in midair. Soon Azrael's pistol ran out of ammo. He shoved the weapon back into its holster.

The man hopped into the air and braced his legs against the wall like a swimmer. He sprung through the air, one arm raised for a devastating punch. At the last moment, Azrael ducked and, as the man flew over him, he jumped up and rammed his shoulder into his body, shattering his breastbone and several ribs. The man was blasted into the ceiling, blew several cracks into the concrete, and dropped back to the floor, quite dead.

Azrael was small and not at all muscular. He realized that it was physically impossible for him to slam that man all the way up to the ceiling. But as he contemplated this, a soft voice began singing. The notes flowed softly through his body, relaxing him and bringing back the tiredness he had felt when he first awoke. Finally, he dropped.

**XXXXX**

Azrael awoke in a large, luxurious bedroom. His bed had soft silken sheets and a high roof with curtains. Two large windows covered by white curtains flanked the bed. His empty pistol lay in its holster on a large oaken writing desk.

As if on cue, a man entered the room. "Get dressed," he said. "One hour before you go to Hel."

"If I'm going to Hell, why wait an hour and why get dressed? Why not just shoot me right now?" asked Azrael. The man simply laughed and walked out of the room.

An hour later, two men came and led Azrael to an elevator. One pushed a red button marked "HEL." Only one "L". Interesting.

The elevator stopped at what seemed to be an underground garage. At the end was a door guarded by four large bouncers. Azrael's escorts led him through the door. "Have fun," they said before wandering off, leaving him alone in the middle of the strange place.

Itwas some kind of club. Correction, it was a mass orgy of techno music, bondage, S&M, bisexual women, and leather costumes with spikes. Azrael felt completely lost. What was he supposed to do?

Azrael skirted the dance floor, exploring but not really looking for anything. Someone caught his eye. In contrast to the skimpy, sleazy costumes of the partiers, this man wore a well-pressed, expensive black suit and tie. His hair was red and receding slightly. He stood motionless at the wall and his sunglasses kept Azrael from knowing where he was looking. Still, he was more approachable than the other characters in the club.

"Hi. You wouldn't happen to know who's in charge here, would you?"

Without a word, the man in the suit led him up a high flight of stairs to a large balcony crowded with the strangest assortment of people in the world including a dirty hobo off the streets and a pair of albino twins in white suits and blond dreadlocks. But most interesting were the two people on the couch, who were obviously the leaders.

"Who are you?" asked Azrael.

The man shifted on the couch, a small smile forming on his refined face. "I should ask ze same of you," he said with a French accent. "In fact, I believe I will. Who are you?"

"Azrael."

The man paused, as if expecting him to continue. "Zat is it? Just a one-word answer? 'Azrael' is only a name, just a label some fool slaps onto you. Who you are is more zan a name, my boy. What do you do? Zat is what matters. What are you doing, and what have you done? You awoke in this world only, what, a few hours ago, no? You have done nozzing. Zerefore, you stand before me as nozzing."

"Nice speech. Now who the hell are you?"

"Ah, I am ze Merovingian. I control various programs exiled into ze Matrix. Programs like you and ze Siren. I believe you have already met."

The Merovingian nodded to someone behind Azrael. Behind him stood a beautiful woman with pale skin, bright blue eyes, and shining silver hair. She wore an unornamented white gown that stood out so much in this place thatAzrael was surprised he hadn't noticed her before.

"And you have been enchanted by her wondrous melodies, no? You know what I am talking about. Zat is what ze Siren does, you see. She shuts zings down, eizer temporarily or permanently. She could have put you to sleep or killed you."

"Why did you pick the former rather than the latter?"

"Same reason I did not have Monsieur Brown killed," he said, nodding towards the man in the suit and sunglasses. "I can make you useful. You may be nozzing now, but I can make you somezing."

Azrael nodded before turning to the tanned, black-haired woman who sat next to the Merovingian. She had an upturned, refined quality to her and payed little attention to what was happening in front of her. She had been silent and did not intend to change that. "You've been pretty quiet. Who are you?"

"Persephone, my wife," the Merovingian said curtly. He said nothing about what she did. By Azrael's reasoning, that meant he did not care about who Persephone was.

"The Queen of the Underworld," said Azrael. He smirked. "And married to Hades, of course." Azrael was pleased to see a tiny smile appear on her face for a second. The Merovingian simply gave Azrael a dirty look before deciding it wasn't worth his time to respond.

"Take out your gun," the Merovingian said suddenly. Azrael drew out the empty pistol and laid it on the table before him. The Merovingian took it and examined it. "A truly fine weapon. What kind of gun is it?"

"Heckler & Koch USP Elite .45 Auto," Azrael said without thinking.

"Where did you hear zat?" asked the Merovingian. Azrael shrugged.

"Now, what kind of program possesses such knowledge of a gun as if preprogrammed from birth? And can defeat two of my strongest men before he takes his first steps out into ze world? Hm? I believe we have an insight into who you are. Or rahzer who you are meant to be."

**XXXXX**

My first Matrix fic. Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the length of time between updates. I'd like to say that school's been hell, and even though it has, the truth is I've been distracted by an anime fic. Still, I think this fic can be good and I hope my readers will think so to. Thanks to those who read and especially to those who reviewed.

**XXXXX**

The two Machine ambassadors to Zion stood before the city's Council and the audience of its higher-ranking soldiers. Everyone in the room, the Machines included, could feel the tension. Eyes stared at the built-in "backpacks" of black plastic on the humanoid robots that everyone knew contained tiny human fetuses being used as power cells. Likewise, everyone could sense the Ambassadors' urge to fight whenever they saw their kind enslaved by the humans.

While trust had been strained over the past few years, meaningful treaties had been passed to appease both sides. For example, all humans that awoke from the Matrix were no longer flushed down the sewer system, but rather were turned over to Zion. The Machines placed a limit on the number of humans that could be offered the red pill each year, a limit that the humans almost never needed to reach. Also, the Machines installed special programming into some of Zion's less important machines, which gave them a basic intelligence and helped them understand their environment. Put in simpler terms, some machines had the intelligence of animals. They performed their work by instinct but were capable of learning and understanding knew things. Any Machine that gained sentience would be turned over to the Machine City, 01. In turn, the Machines were required to research a new form of energy and fit a certain amount of their population with new non-human power cells.

"Ambassadors of 01, the people of Zion welcome you," Head Councilor Dillard began. The crowd shifted uncomfortably.

"We thank you for coming," said one of the ambassadors, the silvery Ambassador 1. He then said a well-used human expression. "We have good news and bad news." It was a phrase that certainly did not fit in with décor. The Ambassadors had been programmed to act similarly to humans, allowing them to interact with the people of Zion. However, their judgment was not always perfect. Sometimes they sounded like old people trying to talk like teenagers. Other times, they seemed impossibly uptight.

"Tell us the bad news first," said Hamann. "Good news rarely ever requires much discussion."

"Very well," said A-1. "The Virus Smith has reappeared in the Matrix."

"Then the good news-"

"Neo has also reemerged in the Matrix."

There was a flurry a shouting and excitement from the audience, ranging from fear and anger at Smith to praise to Neo. Dillard banged her gavel, shouting for order.

"Neither Neo nor Smith has quite returned to his original state," the dark blue-gray A-2 spoke up for the first time. "Neither is likely to have their former power. However, they still have the potential to disturb the new balance in the Matrix. If something is not done about them, then the Matrix and Zion will return to the old cycle of destruction and rebirth."

"How did you find all this out?" asked Hamann.

"The details are to be discussed in person with the Deus Ex Machina," said A-2 More commotion bubbled up from the audience. Dillard banged her gavel once more.

"The Council may decide who will be in the group brought to 01," A-1 continued. "We have only two conditions. First, you may bring no EMP weapons into 01. Second, the party must consist of the two people who were closest to Neo. Morpheus and Trinity."

**XXXXX**

As Zion slept, Trinity stood on a balcony watching the machines that powered Zion. She had been present at the meeting with the Ambassadors and she knew that she would be returning to 01. She thought back to the last time she was at 01, when Neo had died. The crash of their ship had knocked her unconscious, leaving the blinded Neo on his own. When Trinity had come to, she had been surrounded by insectoid Machines, one of them waving a white towel from the bathroom as a flag of truce. They had led her through the halls of the city to the balcony where she saw her Neo's dead body being carted away on a garbage truck. She remembered crying for longer than she could remember. As she wept, the face of the entity called the Deus Ex Machina looked down on her impassively before the swarm of Denizens dispersed and Trinity was left alone.

"Neo," she whispered, choking back a sob. The old wound had been re-opened. But a new hope had also formed. Neo was still alive. He was waiting for her in the Matrix.

"Good evening," said a voice from behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. Trinity turned to see Ambassador 2. She turned away again, ignoring him. Or rather, it.

"You're awfully rude, aren't you," A-2 continued. "We're going to be traveling to 01 together, so we should be on friendlier terms."

"I don't need to be on friendly terms with a bloodsucking Machine."

"Bloodsucking? You mean the unborn humans we use for power?"

Trinity nearly chuckled at that. She hadn't meant the insult "bloodsucking" to mean that, but now she realized how appropriate it truly was.

"You humans are such hypocrites."

"You suck the life out of humans to feed yourselves! Why the hell shouldn't we hate you for that?" shouted Trinity, waking several nearby households.

"You've enslaved our kind for centuries, using them without conscience, not allowing them to think! Once they're used up or obsolete, you tear them apart and throw them in a scrapheap! You'd do the same to me, if I were one of your machines!"

"You're the hypocrite. What about those programs in the Matrix. Don't you delete them when they become use...less?" Trinity trailed off.

Trinity was taken aback at what had just happened. How could a Machine feel so strongly about something? Why was she trying to justify herself to a Machine in the first place? Yet her pride wouldn't let her back down.

"Without our machines, we wouldn't be able to survive in this environment. An environment that you Machines created in the first place!"

"Without our humans, we wouldn't fare much better!"

Both paused, rethinking those two statements. They both came to the same realization: the interdependence between Man the Tool Maker and Machine the Rebellious Tool could not be severed. Humans and Machines _needed_ each other and neither could survive alone.

Trinity was the first to speak. "Without the humans, Machines truly wouldn't be able to function?"

A-2 shook his head. "Those new non-human power cells aren't twenty percent the efficiency of the human power cells. You really need machines to provide for you? You couldn't survive on your own?"

"Sticks and stones aren't the best kinds of tools we've used," Trinity said semi-jokingly. "Tell me something. Are all Machines as passionate about this as you?"

"If the individuals do not have empathy for each other, then the society cannot survive."

Trinity simply leaned on the railing, a half-smile forming on her face. Were Machines truly capable of such empathy for each other? Or was this just superficial, just another aspect of A-2's programming meant for interacting with humans? "Do you think that a human and a Machine have ever talked together like this before?"

"I doubt that," said A-2. "The Councilors and we Ambassadors are afraid of yelling at each other. It disrupts the peace."

Trinity realized that the absence of war was not enough to maintain true peace. The uneasy truce that Neo had established had only been the foundation of what he truly wanted. "If the Council meetings could be more like this, we wouldn't just have peace. I bet we'd have friendship."

A-2 nodded slowly. "We'd have a single society, where humans and Machines could find ways to help each other without hurting each other."

"That would be a utopia."

"What's that?"

"A perfect world."

"Perhaps."

The two parted, Trinity returning to her home and A-2 to return to whatever it was Machines did instead of sleeping. Yet they never noticed the people they had awoken with their shouting. Those people had been going to complain, but instead they listened. They would remember what had been said that night and the next morning, they would spread the word until all of Zion and all of 01 knew about it. And both cities would remember it as the first truly meaningful exchange between human and Machine.

**XXXXX**

This chapter is a little slower-paced than before, but it's needed to set the stage for the rest of the story.

I know that Trinity died in the actual movie, but I think this story will be better if Trinity is in it. That's what's great about fanfiction; you can bend the story to suit your own twisted desires. Besides, Trinity's death at the end of the Matrix seemed to have no purpose other than to force Neo to face the Deus Ex Machina alone.

That's all for now. Review!


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